


Jump

by Apricot



Category: Sevenwaters Trilogy - Marillier
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 22:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apricot/pseuds/Apricot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things would change. She was going to make them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jump

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evewithanapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evewithanapple/gifts).



 

Niamh had long been jealous of her younger sister. It was difficult, when Liadan looked so much like her mother- small and birdlike, not with great hulking bones of a Briton. They were both pale, but only Niamh seemed to get the sun-sprinkle of freckles when she spent too long outdoors and it was because of that that she preferred to remain inside doing chores while Liadan mucked about in the gardens.

Her little sister was the exact replica of their mother, and it made Niamh's heart ache to think about it. Her mother loved her sister better, and of course Sean was special because he was the only son. Niamh sometimes hated Liadan for being slender and tiny and not being born nearly a head taller than everyone else, even the men. She'd stayed like that until she was _sixteen_ and the boys had started to finally catch up. It meant that all she had was her own little world to herself, one that sometimes her father was allowed inside. Her father was heads taller than her, and his hair was just as red and fair as hers was. Niamh worshipped him, clinging to the colors that made them outsiders to the slender, dark-haired people that had taken them into their home.

She knew that her father did not have favorites, but secretly she pretended that she was his. After all, Liadan and Sean looked exactly like their mother- and she knew that Sorcha must have loved Liadan the best. Liadan was never forgetting her chores or neglecting her studies. Her mother was never sharp or exasperated, but Niamh had often come down on the more willful side and often had to be taken to task. It was then that she retreated to wherever her father might be- in the barns, or fixing fence posts. He always let her cling to him, unless she got truly underfoot. Even then, he never shouted.

Of course, Niamh understood now that men- even the forest men of Sevenwaters- were hardly mysterious anymore. In fact, they were devastatingly simple, so much so that sometimes she wanted to toss her golden head or roll her eyes at how predictable they were. All like her brother Sean, either training in the practice yard or toiling outside in the fields like her father. Life was predictable for them. But it would not be for her.

And at the moment, predictable meant that Fat Janis was no doubt going to try to swat her bottom with a spoon when she saw that the linen Niamh was supposed to be embroidering was now in a heap hidden beneath the stove.

Niamh grinned to herself, her slim white ankles dancing in the green grass. Her body felt as light as the sunshine that was drifting through the thick foliage of the forest, and she knew why.

Last night the druids had come. Her uncle Conor had been there, but that had not been what had held her interest.

And now she was being reckless, but so what if she was? These forests would protect her. And she was not some homebody like Liadan, content to sit at her mother's feet and watch the undersides of her nails get scabby with dirt.

As she neared the pond, she slowed, her breasts rising and falling below her dress. Her heart was throbbing with the rich life of these woods, and she stared out at the cool water. Something was going to happen, and soon. To _her._ She just knew it.

Almost as if her thoughts had provoked the forest spirits, she heard the softest brush of leaves to her left. She didn't look. After she'd come into her womanhood she'd learned a lot about men, enough to know that she should pretend she hadn't heard him.

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink that she could not hide, however, and she delicately picked her way over the water's edge.

Another whisper of movement, and he'd gotten closer. She took a breath to smooth out her composure, but he spoke first.

"I didn't think you'd come."

Ciaran. Warmth blossomed in her again, at just the sound of his _voice,_ and she tossed her head a little, still not bothering to look over her shoulder.

"I almost didn't," she said loftily.

Silence from the other end. The young druid was staring at her, she could _feel_ him looking at her, and it caused the most delicious heat under her skin. It was like that at the fire, and she had nearly convinced herself that she'd just overreacted. But there was such intensity in his gaze, intensity for _her._

"Should I jump in the water?" she said, glancing over at him now, imperiously enough to let him know that she had merely deigned to follow his suggestion that she walk to the pond today. "Like one of your swans?"

The rest of her words dried up in her throat, and it was because he was looking at her in that way again, with his dark eyes. It had been unbearable enough when she was in a crowd, but now that they were alone…

Another thrill laced through her. Things were changing now. She could feel them in the shift of her body, and how she _knew _he was watching her move. This was not something anyone in the house would have done, even though she knew they would have understood if Ciaran's gaze had been turned on them instead.

"You're very quiet," she said, tossing her head again as she looked out at the water, letting her hair spill over her pale shoulder in a way she knew set it off to an advantage, the sunlight rippling through it. "You weren't last night."

"Story-telling is hardly a time for contemplation," he responded quietly. "Whereas I want to think before I speak today."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, taking in his grave stare before she turned around. He was watching her still, and she bathed in the attention, before giving into her own fascination with him. He did not look like the men of Sevenwaters, although some part of him still held the same seed that was so common in the faces of her uncles and her brother. But his hair was even redder than hers, a shade she never had seen before. And his shoulders were as wide as any man's, without the bent stoop of a scholar.

She blushed again, turning around, but before she could toss her head again something caught her hand. She gasped softly when she knew it was his hand.

He was no longer looking at her face, but at her fingers, and she blushed again but did not pull away. This was different, since they were alone- even though he must have known she had danced last night for him. He had been watching, and even then it hadn't made her feel as if she were dipped in the flames, like now.

_Jump,_ some voice in her seemed to speak. The only other sound in her head was his name, as she turned to look at him. His face was closer now.

"I promised myself I would not do this," he suddenly said, sounding formal, sounding stiff. Niamh flushed.

"Do _this?"_

"See you again," he said, his eyes flicking to her. "I-"

"So you were going to _leave_ me here?"

His skin paled beneath the faint freckles on his face, a fact that might have endeared him to Niamh had she not been working up a strong case for either indignation or a throaty laugh. She watched him, choosing the latter since she was at the moment fascinated with the way his hair curled, the shape of his lips.

"Of- course not," Ciaran said quietly.

"Good," she said, letting her lashes sweep down her cheek. She mustered the most disdainful manner she could, tossing her head. "Then you may kiss me."

He blinked, and she was privately pleased to have broken his stare. She would have been more pleased if her heart would stop fluttering in her chest, as fragile as a bird's wing.

Slowly, a smile broke on the young druid's face, and he leaned into her.

This was it. This was going to change things. The voice in her mind- it was her own, of course, she was not Liadan- seemed to sing. She wanted him.

Her head tilted upward as he neared, and their lips brushed. It was gentle, soft, but the resulting crash inside her made her gasp softly, and her hand left his in order to press against his chest.

Ciaran.

It was as if a fire had caught tinder as they kissed, the sun soft and sweet on their faces as he leaned into her. She'd kissed before- been kissed before- but this was different. This was like a first, his mouth sweet and full against her own, and she knew that she didn't want to kiss anyone else but him from now on.

Ciaran will feel the same, she thought fiercely. Her body pressed to his, and she felt him gasp, and felt the answering heat in her meet his as the kiss deepened.

Thinking was not something to be considered now, but she _felt-_ she knew- that he would feel the same way about it. It was in the sudden desperate slant of his mouth against hers, and how the soft kiss had suddenly become desperately needy. It was how his hands slid around her waist, making her feel fragile and yet strong at the same time. How the heat that filled her was so strong, like wine, as she felt him tremble against her as she pressed closer.

Her fingers closed around the nape of his neck, and she cried out softly as he suddenly broke from her lips. He was panting, but then so was she, and she smiled deeply as she leaned in again.

"_Niamh,"_ he said, and heat heightened in her body as she heard the hoarse tone in his voice. She pressed another kiss to his bottom lip, enjoying how he felt. It was sweeter with him than it had ever been with anyone else.

"_I have to go back,"_ he rasped, and she stilled. "_They will miss me."_

Her lips twisted downward, her eyes flashing, but she was comforted by the way he looked at her again- so hungry and wanting, that she didn't snap back at him. Instead she leaned in. "_Come back, and I'll come back too."_

He laughed softly, and she smiled. "_Promise."_

"Of course," he said, simply, since there was no other way for him. "_Tomorrow."_

She nodded, sliding her hand down from his neck, but exhaled again. She wanted to keep touching him. The world had suddenly changed from when she'd closed her eyes and opened them again, and she knew what she wanted.

"_Promise, Niamh,"_ he rasped.

"_I promise,"_ she said, her fingers twining with his like ivy before she slid back again. His gaze was hot on her again, and she smiled. "_Tomorrow."_

He watched her for a long time, and every second made her smile, before he finally sunk back into the shadows of the forest. It was only then that she laughed, giddy, and turned around herself, running back toward the hold.

Things were changing. Not for Liadan, or for Sean- they would always have the life that they wanted- but for her. She would not stay at Sevenwaters for her life. She would not go away to Sidhe Dubh with Eamonn, or anyone else. She would be gone; she would be something else entirely. And Ciaran would love her.

Ciaran.

He would love her, because she loved him, and the sudden epiphany meant that she was far more special than she had ever thought. He was strong, and beautiful, and the way he looked at her….no one would look at her like that unless they did love her. Her body suddenly shivered with warmth again, thinking about his lips and his kiss.

Things would change. She was going to make them.


End file.
